CHAPTER THREE
Pitch darkness.
He felt himself falling forward in the inky blackness, only to have his arms caught by someone. Blinking, he tried to gather some more information about his surroundings. He could hear someone babbling next to him in a language that he didn't understand a word of. Other than that, the surrounding area was eerily quiet.
That's strange, he thought. If the ship was waking up, he should be hearing the buzz of activity as the droids went through and awakened the other passengers. Yet there was nothing of the sort.
He focused on the two people standing next to him, reaching out to try and understand what they were saying.
I'm B'Elanna Torres, from the Federation Starship Voyager, one of them said. The language appeared to be fairly simple, although its vowels were oddly shifted from what he was used to in Basic. The grammar also appeared to be slightly backwards when he considered how the words he heard compared to the actual meaning he'd picked up.
He tried to speak in reply, to introduce himself, but nothing came out. His throat felt as if someone had poured sand down it while he had been asleep, and he involuntarily coughed.
"What Federation?" he asked, trying to clear the darkness from his eyes. The women standing next to him appeared be confused by his reply and babbled to each other.
Seven, did you pick up any of that? The first one asked.
It doesn't sound like any of the languages the Borg encountered, the other one – he guessed she was Seven – replied. Kind of an odd name for a person. As he continued to try to get his eyes to function, B'Elanna spoke again.
Where are you from? She asked.
It was a pretty simple question, all said. "Corellia," he answered, and from the confusion he again sensed he guessed that they didn't know where it was.
You can understand me?
He started to speak but realized he didn't know their word for yes yet, and nodded instead.
What is your name?
Easy enough question. "Jedi Master Dellen Coureran, at your service," he managed to get out in between coughs.
Pleased to meet you, Mr. Coureran, she replied in that strange language. We were stranded in this part of the galaxy and were trying to get home when we found your ship drifting.
He tried to form a reply in their own language, guessing which words were what. Evidently it didn't quite come out right.
I see, she corrected him immediately.
"I see," he repeated with a smile, trying to figure out what to do next. As he'd been working at his eyes, he had managed to go from seeing only blackness to seeing blinding white light. No shapes were forthcoming yet. He reached out to sense where he was, and realized that he really could use one of those blasted 4PO units. Where were they when you needed them, anyway?
He reached out and tried to guess the word he needed from the women. "Go," he experimented, pointing in the direction he guessed was the nearest terminal.
"Go?" she asked, apparently confused by the request. That way?
He nodded in assent. At least they were getting somewhere. The two women began walking forward, and he tried to convince his legs to move but was somewhat unprepared for how stiff they were. Well, he had been frozen in that block for... well, if they were in the system already it would have had to been around seventy years to account for the acceleration, travel, and deceleration. Then again, with the relative effects of time at the near-light speeds they had tried to hit, it probably would have only seemed like twenty on board the ship...
By the time they had reached the terminal, he was able to see rough, slightly blurry shapes. The two women helped him sit down, and he peered at the screen, trying to make out the Aurebesh lettering it showed. Several false starts later, he had managed to access the ship's droid control subsystem, requesting a protocol droid be sent to their location.
While they waited, he continued to search through the system and noticed that the ship had responded to a perimeter security breach of the storage core only a few minutes before. It had sent two droidekas in response. Intrigued, Dellen checked the current status. Both droids were still active, only two levels above them.
He leaned back and considered the situation. He still had his lightsaber at his belt, but in his present state, with his muscles still not reacting correctly, he would be vulnerable if the visitors decided to become aggressive. The decision made, he leaned closer to the terminal and entered new commands to send the two droids to the main storage area and await his commands.
He didn't have to wait long for the protocol droid, which shuffled forward, its head tilted slightly to one side.
"How may I be of service, Master Coureran?" the droid asked.
"I need you to start learning their language," he instructed it.
"Of course, Master."
Dellen turned around to face group. "I need you to talk," he asked, in a mixture of Basic and the words he'd picked up from the visitors.
About what? She replied.
He shrugged, trying to figure out the correct reply. "The droid will learn what you say. I just need you to talk."
Translator? She asked. Apparently his last reply wasn't as clear as he had hoped.
"Translator," he said slowly, imitating her voice. "Yes. It learns when you talk."
She and the other woman spoke briefly for a short time, but it was immediately clear to Dellen that both were very technical and didn't feel comfortable trying to teach their language.
Is your translator capable of teaching your language? The first one, B'Elanna, asked.
"You want the translator to teach you?" he asked, slightly confused. They hadn't shown any signs of understanding the Basic he was speaking, and only appeared to be picking up the word or two of their language that he was repeating.
Yes. She tapped the side of her head. We have Universal Translators implanted that are capable of learning languages.
Dellen turned back to the protocol droid and told it to begin one of its instructional programs. It shuffled forward, extended an arm, and greeted the visitors.
Several hours later, when the droid had finished its beginner teaching program, Dellen stood up and walked over to where the group was seated in front of the droid.
"How well can you understand me now?" he asked.
"Perfectly," one of the women said as she came to her feet. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager, and these are members of my crew."
He extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Jedi Master Dellen Coureran, official historian of the Outbound Flight."
She took his hand and shook it. "Likewise. Now, we do have some questions. Where are you from?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing myself," he replied. "I'm from Corellia. The rest of our crew and colonists were picked from systems all over the galaxy."
"All over..." She paused. "This galaxy?"
Dellen drew his head back. "This galaxy? No... our galaxy is pretty far away from here."
"How long did it take to get all of the crew, if they came from all over the galaxy?" Torres asked.
"About a week," Dellen replied. The mouths of most of Voyager's crew hung agape now, and he decided to try breaking the ice a bit. "Well, going by the looks on your faces, I take it that would be pretty unheard-of here."
"Um..." Torres' wrinkled forehead was even more scrunched up in thought. "How big is your galaxy, anyway?"
"Well, from what we could see... about ten percent larger than this one," Dellen replied.
"Amazing," Munro half whispered.
"We've..." Janeway's voice trailed off, and she was obviously trying to think of how to word it. "We've been trapped in this part of the galaxy for close to five years, trying to get home. Our best estimates give us another fifty or sixty years to go."
This time it was Dellen's turn to be speechless. Somewhere in the seventy or so thousand years between the first sleeper ships and the invention of the modern hyperdrive, there had been a number of attempts to break the lightspeed barrier. All those different methods had been quickly replaced with the advent of the modern hyperdrive. "I'm... sorry to hear that," he replied. "You know what, we might actually be able to help you. I'll just have to wake up the commander so we can discuss it." He pointed to the terminal, which Seven was currently seated in front of. "Do you mind?"
"No," Seven said as she came to her feet.
Dellen took the seat, swiveling around to face the terminal, and started working away at it. A short time later, he stood back up. "The medical and security staff will be awakened first, so you'll have to wait for the commander. There's a room not too far from here where you can sit and rest for a bit while we get everything ready."
"Of course," Janeway replied.
He waved an open hand toward an exit. "If you would follow me?"
After leaving the visitors in one of the storage rooms, Dellen walked back to the main storage room, where the crew were slowly beginning to wake up. He mentally counted the aisles of carbon-freeze units and turned down one, passing several dozen units before stopping at one he recognized the markings of. After activating the controls and waiting for the carbonite to evaporate, he helped the gray-haired man down.
"Master Dellen," the gray-haired man addressed him, although his eyes were still unfocused and staring off into space behind him as a side effect of the hibernation sickness. "Bypassing protocols again, I see. Is there some sort of emergency?"
"Well, not exactly, Master C'baoth," Dellen replied. "We're within the destination system already. However, some local spacefarers stumbled across us and accidentally set off the security systems."
"Are they hostile?"
"No... well, this is going to sound very strange, but they're... ah... human."
C'baoth's eyebrows moved up about half a centimeter. "Indeed?"
"Yes. They're from a government they call the Federation, located on the other side of this galaxy. They've been trapped here for the past five years trying to get back. I was thinking that we might be able to help them."
The gray eyebrows went back down as a frown crept across C'baoth's face. "They don't know about hyperspace."
"I didn't ask, but I would assume that's the reason."
"I see." C'baoth went quiet for a moment. "So we have a contact scenario on our hands. Have you begun the startup procedures?"
"Yes," Dellen replied. "The ship was already in standby when they woke me up. I immediately had the droids start bringing the rest of the crew out of hibernation."
"And where are our visitors?"
"In one of the storage lockers nearby. Master C'baoth, do you want to meet them now or should we wait for the other Masters?"
C'baoth blinked several times, obviously trying to clear his vision. "No sense in wasting time," he replied after a moment had passed. "If the other Masters wish to join, they will know where to find us."
.
.
.
Janeway was mildly surprised when Dellen returned with another human. It was immediately obvious that he was older than Dellen, with a full head of gray hair that he wore in a loose ponytail and a fairly short beard of the same color that adorned his sharp chin. Like Dellen, he was wearing a simple, rough brown robe tied at the waist. The overall effect was similar to that of the Tibetan monks back on Earth, although they tended to wear brightly colored robes. The other major difference was that while the Tibetan monks never carried anything with them, a silver cylinder about twenty centimeters long hung from the new man's belt.
Dellen stepped forward. "Members of Voyager, may I introduce you to the administrator of the Outbound Flight Project, Master Jorus C'baoth. Master C'baoth, these are the visitors I was telling you about."
At the introduction, she came to her feet, stretching out her hand in greeting. "On behalf of my crew, I would like to thank you for your hospitality," she began. "My name is Kathryn Janeway, captain of the Federation starship Voyager, and these are the members of my away team."
The introductions briefly went around, with many handshakes to accompany them. After they had finished, Janeway looked straight at Master C'baoth. "I apologize for the sudden request, but we lost a member of our team to your ship's defenses. I would like to know if we could take his body back for a proper funeral as soon as possible."
"I'm very sorry to hear that," C'baoth replied. "Just let us know where it happened, and we'll have the maintenance droids bring the body here."
He had barely finished speaking when Seven replied. "Ensign Allen died two decks above us, approximately fifty meters aft of the access shaft we entered through."
C'baoth turned to face the younger Master. "Dellen, go take care of that if you would, and meet us in the main conference room on D-One."
"Of course," Dellen replied, turning away immediately.
"Now, if you could follow me?" C'baoth asked, but Janeway got the feeling that the question was more of a demand than a simple question.
As it turned out, the conference room was far larger than what Janeway had expected. The solid table at its center, inlaid with intricate designs carved of a very dark colored wood, could have easily seated well over twenty people. The walls of the room were covered with tapestries, which Seven quickly discovered were actually holographic displays.
Shortly after they had all sat down, a humanoid (at the top, at least; the legs tapered into a sphere) robot rolled in and asked in a carefully metered, feminine voice if they wanted anything. Not knowing what their hosts ate or drank, they all asked for water. The robot smoothly rolled out of sight and then re-appeared minutes later with a metal pitcher covered in condensation and enough glasses for everyone.
As they settled in, C'baoth turned to face Janeway. "What's your story?"
Brief and to the point, Janeway thought to herself. He certainly didn't waste any time. She mentally shrugged and decided to go along with it.
"Five years ago, we were sent to investigate the disappearance of a ship in a dangerous area of space, about 70,000 light-years from here. When we got there, we were hit with a strange wave of energy that transported us to this quadrant. Our ship was heavily damaged, and many of our crew died.
"Well, after that, we found the ship we had been looking for. They were in worse condition than we were, and the survivors became part of our crew. We've had a few additions along the way – our ship's cook, Neelix, was a local scavenger who we ran across. And, of course, Seven of Nine here is a former Borg drone.
"But it hasn't all been bad. A parting gift from one of the crew we picked up moved us ten thousand light-years closer. Which leaves us, right now, about fifty years away from home."
C'baoth leaned forward slightly, his hand resting on an open palm as if in thought. "Dellen did mention that to me. As it so happens, I think we might be able to take you in tow back to your home."
Janeway frowned. "But... aren't your drive systems disabled? I mean, why have you been cruising at impulse for the last thirty years?"
"Well, I was going to explain that later, but since you asked...
At that moment, the door to the conference room hissed open and Dellen entered, accompanied by a brown-haired woman of medium build and a tall, balding, middle-aged man.
"Ah, you made it," C'baoth said without missing a beat. "Captain Janeway, may I introduce Jedi Master Justyn Ma'Ning and Jedi Knight Lorana Jinzler. Master Ma'Ning is in charge of Jedi operations on D-Four, and Jedi Jinzler is my former Padawan."
"Pleased to meet you," Janeway said as she came to her feet.
"Excuse me," a voice piped up next to her, and she glanced over to see Seven looking intently at C'baoth. "Are you all Jedi?"
Master Ma'Ning broke the sudden silence with a deep laugh. "No, of course not. There are about ten thousand colonists on this mission, along with another thousand Republic Navy crewmen to run the Dreadnaughts."
"What are the Jedi?"
Ma'Ning glanced over at C'baoth briefly before answering. "We are the guardians of the Republic. For over a thousand generations we have stood between the Republic and all its threats, both from within and without."
"So you're police?" Munro asked.
"Not exactly," Ma'Ning replied. "We act as peacekeepers when it is necessary. That is but one of the many tasks the Force calls on us to perform."
"The Force?" Janeway asked, now genuinely curious.
"The energy that binds the universe together," C'baoth answered. "We, the Jedi, have been granted the power of the Force. It responds to each of us differently. For some, it grants visions of past, present and possible futures. For others," he waved his hand and the pitcher of water on the table floated up and began to fill all the glasses, "it grants control over matter and energy. These are but a few of the many gifts offered by the Force. In return, as Master Ma'Ning so eloquently put it, we must follow the will of the Force.
"Now, back to the original subject, I believe you were interested in how we got here. Is that correct?"
Janeway simply nodded.
"Sixty years ago, our mission launched from the Yaga Minor shipyards. To test the ship, we set out through the uncharted areas of the galactic halo. At our last navigational stop, we were attacked by an unknown force that damaged many of our systems. Master Fernas, our navigator, then made an uncharted jump that from the best of our knowledge, took us through either a black hole, wormhole, or some strange sort of hyperspace disturbance.
"And that is how we arrived here. We discovered that our fuel tanks had been breached, so after making repairs we used the food-preservation equipment aboard the ship to enter hibernation while we generated more fuel. We were going to begin our search for life once we reached the system, but obviously you discovered us first."
"So..." Janeway considered the implications. "You're explorers, from another galaxy?"
"I suppose you could put it that way," C'baoth replied. "I personally prefer to think of us as pioneers. You see, when the hyperdrive was first invented, many people, including more than a few Jedi, set out in search of new worlds. After several thousand years, most of the galaxy had been mapped out. The Republic, founded during that time, turned its focus in toward itself and has not looked out beyond its borders since. The people of our galaxy have grown complacent; they no longer view the universe with wonder. To them, planets, star systems, those are just a place to live and fight over.
"But to us, the universe is a place of limitless potential. Who knows what wonders lie among the stars? The power of the Force is as vast as space itself. I feel that there is no greater sign of that than the fact that you sit here before us, nearly eighty million light-years away from our home."
Janeway nodded. "I suppose, then, it might come as no surprise to you that part of the mission of Starfleet is to boldly go where no one has gone before." She felt a twinge of pride resonate as she repeated the words Cochrane had uttered over two hundred years before.
"A worthy sentiment," C'baoth agreed.
"Well, this has been a wonderful history lesson," Janeway replied, "but I think we need to get to business. You mentioned taking us in tow. How would that be possible, and how long will it take?"
"It would first depend on your ship," C'baoth answered. "I'm not sure what we would have to do to prepare it for hyperspace travel. Are you at all familiar with hyperspace?"
Janeway shook her head. "If by hyperspace, you mean a higher domain of subspace, then we have a number of theories on the subject but I was unaware that it was possible to exploit the domain for travel."
"Minor details, I'm sure," C'baoth replied. "Our engineers can work on the implementation with your engineers. Now, do you have up to date starmaps?"
The captain looked over at Tuvok with some concern. "Is that necessary?"
C'baoth nodded. "In order to navigate hyperspace, the jumps must be plotted first. If we have bad astronomical data, then there's a chance of flying into a star's mass shadow or even something as small as an asteroid, which could have very bad – and unpredictable – effects. Thousands of starships are lost each year from such navigational errors."
"But you said that you flew through a black hole to get here?" Janeway asked.
"With the Force guiding us," C'baoth replied. "That is not a feat I would want anyone else to try."
"I see," she replied, letting her shoulders drop with a sigh. "Well, I suppose there's no harm in letting you see the star charts we have. After all, we would be in this together. Now, as far as our government goes, what are your intentions when we arrive?"
"Per our charter, we would open diplomatic contact with your Federation. Our goal would be friendly, mutual understanding between your government and ours. To that end, we would like to set up a world as a Republic colony in peaceful coexistence."
"A laudable goal," Janeway agreed. "So, is there anything else we need to do before we start working with you?"
C'baoth leaned forward, pulling out a datapad and a stack of flimsiplast sheets. "For the sake of both of our crews, I would like to work out a contract with you that will limit the responsibilities that each of us carries. Most of this would be quite standard and basic, so that if any differences arise once we've embarked on this project, we can settle those disputes without any heated arguments. Is this agreeable to you?"
"Of course," Janeway replied. "While you're working on that, if it's all right with you, we would like to hold a funeral for Ensign Allen back on Voyager. Please feel free to contact us when you're ready."
C'baoth set the datapad down and looked up as Janeway came to her feet. "I don't believe we ever discussed how to communicate with your ship," he remarked.
"Oh. Of course," Janeway replied, barely missing a beat. "Torres, would you give them a list of our standard hailing frequencies?"
Torres nodded in acknowledgement, pulling out her datapad and tapping away.
"One last question," C'baoth said as he came to his feet. "I believe you entered through D-Three. Do you have a shuttle waiting? If so, I can make arrangements for them to dock in this ship's hangar."
Janeway paused for a minute as she considered it. "We used matter transporters to beam over, but we entered through D-Three, as you call it, because we found that the transporters don't function through your hull materials. We'll need to go somewhere that won't block the transporters."
The Jedi Master considered the request. "I think the hangar bay should work in that case as well," he declared, turning to face the other Jedi. "Jedi Jinzler, would you mind escorting our guests to the hangar bay?"
"Of course, Master," she replied deferentially, turning to face Janeway. "Follow me, please."
As they followed the young Jedi out of the room, Janeway increased her pace to match until she was walking alongside Lorana.
"So..." she began, not quite knowing how to put it. "How did you wind up on this mission?"
"I was Master C'baoth's apprentice," Lorana answered. "The Council granted me the rank of Jedi Knight three weeks before the mission, after which they assigned me here."
"That sounds ... sudden."
Lorana shrugged. "It came as a bit of a surprise. I'm only 22. Most Padawans have to wait until they're around 25 before they become full Jedi. It all depends on your skill, of course."
"Skill?"
"Your strength in the various disciplines of the Jedi. There's no single standard for Jedi, since we fill so many different roles."
"And what's yours?" Janeway asked.
Lorana gave another noncommittal shrug. "To be completely honest, I'm not really sure. I guess I'm pretty good at mediating, because for the last couple of weeks... well, I mean the last couple of weeks before we went into hibernation, anyway, I've been working with the crew and colonists whenever they had arguments."
"Are there are lot?" Janeway asked as they rounded another corner and walked up to another blast door. Next to the control panel for the blast door was some of the strange lettering that Dellen had earlier explained was called Aurebesh.
She leaned over and tapped the control panel. "Arguments? Not too many, but there were a few disagreements with several of the families. Master C'baoth wanted to begin training a number of the children but the parents didn't want them to be taken away. We eventually agreed to begin the training without separating anyone."
"Ah." The blast doors hissed open to reveal the hangar bay, which held two oddly shaped craft that Janeway assumed to be shuttles, plus a number of shuttlecraft-sized blocks that she guessed were cargo containers. "Well, I think we'll be fine from here."
Lorana looked around the hangar. "But there's no shuttle."
"We don't need one," Janeway replied. "You'll see. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality."
"You're quite welcome," Lorana replied.
Janeway reached up and tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to the Bridge. We're ready for beam-out."
Moments later, the entire away team vanished with a strange sparkling effect. Lorana blinked several times in surprise before heading back into the ship.
.
.
.
Several hours later, Janeway and Tuvok were back in the conference room on D-One.
"I hope the contract is to your satisfaction." C'baoth pushed two datapads across the table, which the two Starfleet officers picked up and began reading. To Janeway, the contract looked like a fairly standard waiver of liability. She paged through it and didn't see anything that looked immediately objectionable, then set it down.
Tuvok, meanwhile, was taking his time reading it, and after several minutes held out the datapad for Janeway. "Captain, did you read this section?"
Janeway picked up the datapad and her face went ashen. She dropped the pad to the desk and leaned across the table toward C'baoth. "Just who do you think you are, to have the nerve to ask for blood samples of my crew?"
C'baoth blinked. "I assure you, I meant no offense by the request." He paused. "You see, there are several markers that can determine if a person is potentially Force-sensitive. We would simply like to find out if those markers exist in this galaxy."
Janeway shook her head. "I will not have my crew used as guinea pigs. We would not even consider making such a request of you, although we have had our own questions about how humans ended up in another galaxy so far from our own."
The Jedi Master put his hands up. "You have my most sincere apology for this confusion. If that is your concern, we can always make sure that each crewmember consents to the procedure."
"No, I think that you're not understanding me," Janeway replied. "We will not stand for this invasion of our rights. I understand that you are offering to tow us home, which I much appreciate, but if that ride comes at the cost of our genetic rights, then my answer is no."
"We-" C'baoth started to reply but Janeway cut him off.
"We will just have to find our own way home," she replied, pushing the chair back and coming to her feet. "Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, if you don't mind, I believe it's time to return to Voyager."
. . .
"Um... Captain?" Chakotay had confusion clearly evident on his face as Janeway stormed out of the turbolift with Tuvok following close on her heels. "How did the negotiations go?"
"Not as well as I would have liked," Janeway vaguely responded as she turned to the helm. "Lieutenant Paris, we will continue on our original course, Warp Seven."
"Captain?" he questioned.
"Do it."
"Uh... yes, Captain," the Lieutenant replied with some hesitation. "Warp Seven."
"Captain," Chakotay began, "may I ask what happened?"
Janeway took a last look at the massive ship as Voyager accelerated to warp, cutting off the viewscreen image. "Meet me in the ready room in thirty."
As she stepped into her ready room, Janeway was beginning to realize how exhausted she was from the away mission. Between running from the security droids of the Republic ship and negotiating with C'baoth, she realized they had spent close to ten hours on the ship.
Absentmindedly, she tapped the small control panel next to the door. It quietly slid open, and beyond it the room's lights activated.
"Coffee," Janeway ordered the room's small replicator, placing her mug into the opening. "Black. Hot." Within moments, the mug was filled with the steaming beverage and she took it, sitting down in a chair across the room.
"Computer, give me all the data there is on the Outbound Flight vessel."
Several monitors came to life, showing various diagrams and text data screens. She disinterestedly looked them over, pausing several times to change screens.
For nearly half an hour, the room remained quiet save for Janeway drumming her fingers against the chair rest. Then, the door softly chimed, startling the Captain out of her seat. "Come in," she finally acknowledged after glancing around the ready room.
The door promptly slid aside, revealing the mysterious visitor. "Hello, Commander," Janeway announced. "Have a seat."
"I'd prefer to stand," Chakotay replied, taking a close look at one of the monitors in front of the Captain. "What is this?" he asked in a subdued voice after several moments had passed.
Janeway heaved a sigh, looking at him with bloodshot eyes. "I've been analyzing the data we gathered on that ship," she responded. "It doesn't make any sense. Humans from a galaxy millions of light-years away? Blood tests for psychic powers? Fully sapient androids that seem to be no more than servants? Chakotay, I don't know what to make of this! What are we getting ourselves into?"
"Nothing, apparently," the first officer replied. "We're travelling away at warp seven per your orders, if you recall." He paused for a moment. "What do you mean, blood tests?"
Janeway put her head into her hands, her elbows resting on the table. "Their leader, a certain Master C'baoth, wanted us to sign a contract to limit liability in case anything went wrong. I looked over it quickly and didn't see anything obviously wrong, but Tuvok noticed a clause requiring that we submit blood samples for testing. So I called him on it."
"Well, I'm sure he would have been open to negotiating that," Chakotay remarked. "That's a pretty minor request."
Janeway tilted her head to the side. "Perhaps, but we don't even really know anything about these people!"
"And you don't think it's worth trying to learn about them, to understand them?"
"Like we tried to understand and trust Arturis, just a few weeks ago?" Janeway retorted. "Look where that got us."
"It got us light-years closer to home, and Seven's been working on slipstream theory since that incident. I'd say that's a positive."
"Commander-"
He cut her off. "Captain, after five years in this dump of a quadrant, I have just about had it with your decisions. You have put both yourself and the crew in danger on more than one occasion. And yes, there have been times when I was tempted to relieve you of your command, regardless of what might happen when we reach Earth."
"It-"
Chakotay was not done yet. "The Caretaker offered to let us back through his array. He even had a self-destruct device in place. Yet you felt sorry for the poor Ocampa, so we blew it up and saved their day."
"The self destruct was damaged, if you recall," Janeway retorted.
"It wasn't damaged until well after we got there!" Chakotay shot back. "Anyway, after that fiasco, we could have just run for the Gamma Quadrant wormhole which was less than ten years away, instead of seventy."
"We would have been traveling through Dominion space. Besides, as I heard a few days before we left, Captain Sisko mined the other end."
"Fine." Chakotay shrugged. "Maybe he did. And maybe we could have used the fake Dauntless to get home... Oh! Right! We couldn't, because our phasers were set on stun the whole damned time. And then there was Omega, which after Seven stabilized it could have given us all the power we needed to get home. So many maybes, Captain. So many could-haves that you nixed."
"I did that for the safety of my crew, Commander," Janeway replied. "You saw what happened when the Omega in that lab destabilized."
"That's what development is for, Captain," the Commander retorted.
"I did not want to put the lives of my crew in jeopardy."
"That is not the point, Captain. The commander of this Republic ship offered to take us home. I'm sure we could have gotten him to drop that blood test thing, if we had actually taken the time to talk!"
"Commander!" Janeway firmly shouted. "That will be enough. We will not negotiate with them."
"Captain," Chakotay quietly began, "we have been in this quadrant for five years now. Five years! Crew morale is dropping, the ship is falling apart, and you keep turning down opportunities to get home, left and right. I don't know how we're supposed to last for the other fifty odd years it'll take... we'll probably be dead before we get home! Captain, I'll be damned if I can't get this crew home faster myself."
Before Janeway could say another word, he turned and walked out, leaving her to stew in silence.
A flustered Chakotay nearly ran into Tuvok as he stepped onto the Bridge.
"Commander, is there a problem with something?"
He turned to regard the chief security officer. "Would you mind coming with me to Sickbay?"
"Certainly, Commander." Tuvok briefly worked his console, then turned back. "Do you feel ill?"
Chakotay shook his head as he called the turbolift. "It's not me." The door slid open with a whoosh and they stepped inside. "It's about the Captain. Computer, sickbay."
Moments later, the turbolift doors hissed open on the sickbay. "Computer, activate EMH," Chakotay ordered.
"Please state the nature..." The Doctor trailed off as he turned to look the two men over. "Oh. You don't seem to be injured."
"An astute observation," Tuvok dryly remarked.
"We're here to discuss the Captain, Doctor," Chakotay said immediately after Tuvok.
"Why?" the Doctor suddenly asked. "What's the matter?"
Chakotay looked the hologram square in the eye, or at least in the cluster of photons that comprised his eye. "Her behavior has become more and more erratic over the past several months. I'm concerned that she may do something to place the crew in danger."